Or I'll Eat You!
by HP-Love and Smut Stories
Summary: Winky goes to her old master Mr. Crouch’s house where she stumbles upon a gruesome, yet alluring scene: Nagini, the Dark Lord’s familiar, devouring the remaining house elves... “Come to me…” Nagini hisses…Winky x Nagini [smut]


**Or I'll Eat You!**

By: HP-Love and Smut Stories 

**Summary: **(4th-5th year) Winky goes to her old masters' house, Mr. Couch, when she stumbled upon a most gruesome, yet alluring scene. Nagini, the Dark Lord's familiar, was devouring the remaining house elves that resided in the manor. "_Come to me…" _hissed Nagini as Winky found her little feet moving on their own. Winky x Nagini (smut) _Angst/Romance_

**Warning: **Winky x Nagini smut/rape/pending S+M and bondage

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is not mine… This weird and slightlydisturbing summary/story is.

Winky was a bad, bad house elf.

Oh, she'd always known that she'd never be able to match her mother. She'd met an admirable end getting squished underfoot, throwing herself into a puddle to spare the shoes of her attractively round mistress. Winky knew that could nothing but fall far short of her grandmother. The matriarch of their house-elf clan had crept up to the roof to retrieve her fretting young master's kite, only to get snatched away by a roving dragon.

Winky had always tried hard honor her noble roots of self-sacrifice and utter subservience. She'd never been perfect. She'd happily bashed in her skull with some of the family's more durable cookery when she'd—for shame!—over-salted the roast. She'd held her breath until she passed out when woe, oh woe!, there was a cobweb in the corner too high for to reach (she was quickly revived by the other elves, for there was work to be done.)

But she'd never imagined—oh the suicidal tendencies it drove her just to think of it!—that she'd get sacked!

The master had been gracious enough to give her and her alone of all the house-elves the supreme blessing of being charged with his son. Young master Bartemius, addled and shrouded in his father's cloak, had been little trouble at first. Winky had faithfully fed him and watched him and regularly wiped away the trickle of drool from the corner of his mouth. She had been very fond of the young master since his days as a tot, but his mother had taken care of changing his nappies and feeding him his bottle and the lot.

Well, young master Crouch had no mother now, although he functioned like a baby, and Winky delighted herself thinking herself rather like a nanny to master's precious only child. She cared not about what side of the Dark Lord he considered himself part of, for she was dedicated only to the care-taking of the Crouch bloodline. (Dobby was forever banging about the mistreatment of house elves under the dark reign, but a proper house-elf would have been glad to assist his master in any allegiance he cared to choose. Even if that meant the elves would have to serve as "entertainment" by being test subjects for new tortures. Conveniently, they wouldn't die, for house-elves were fairly resilient to punishment after generations of self-injury.)

Winky knew the bad history between her elder and junior masters, but she'd hoped—did she dare?—with time and his son now being as docile as he'd always wanted, the master would eventually reconcile with his son.

Winky quickly corrected that thought when the young master broke free of his spell-induced reverie for the first time, roaring curses at his absent father and squeezing Winky's neck like he thought she was the old man. She'd been able to quiet him then, but his outbursts had become more violent and more frequent until…

So be it. The master was completely in the right for sacking her. She'd hidden the young master's slowly strengthening independence from his father's control. She told herself that she wanted to spare the master alarm and fuss, for she always managed to suppress Bartemius Junior back into his stupor with her own magic. But deep down she knew it was a mixture of many foul feelings that had made her feign ignorance.

She was proud.

She felt so deeply honored to be entrusted with such an important task, that she willed herself to believe she was executing it perfectly.

She was afraid.

If the master had known, he might have taken her special favorite away from her.

She was weak.

She didn't dare face the master's rage when he found out his son's personality had been surfacing, and still after so long chanted praise for the Dark Lord and hatred for him.

She was lonely.

House-elves had nothing for themselves but their duties. Being in charge of the young master had made her feel like she meant something, truly and deeply, to someone.

But it was all over now. Just because…

She was a bad bad house-elf. If only she were still in employ the contract would have allowed her to flay herself like she deserved.

But as much as she ached to have that need fulfilled, pain to release guilt, without the instinctive urge to repent through hurt, it was too empty to do.

For now, all she could do was return to master's house while he was out dealing with the fiasco (of HER making, she reminded herself!) and collect her things. She couldn't bear enforcing the sight of herself, a miserable, tarnished wretch, upon his righteous eyes. She'd dreaded this final step of realizing her dismissal so much that she'd dawdled for several weeks. But now there was no avoiding it.

She trudged up the familiar steps with tears in her eyes, knowing that the comfortable motion that had once announced to her that she was coming home, now spelled her fate as a useless, unloved vagrant.

Deep in the house, another presence stirred. Its ability to sense emotions, a deep, dark empathy that picked up on thoughts in the air, devoured the sweet gloom of a distant house-elf's melancholy.

A sensual tongue flicked our, relishing the lingering scent of blood from the creature's last meal. The remnants of that meal were strewn about the room, the freshest half-eaten morsel still twitching somewhere in the shadows and giving high-pitched whimpers. The house elves had been a delicious feast after living on rodents, but after her basest appetites had been sated, another urge demanded to be satisfied…

Pain? Punishment? The house-elf would have all she desired.

"_Come to me…" _Nagini hissed.

Author' s Note:

If you want to know what this is all about, go straight to the author's profile.

I don't know how I did it… I just shut my eyes and typed. (I KNOW that doesn't even make sense.) I was looking at the entire list in the profile and going "I… I…can't do this…" So I thought I'd start small. Yes, this is a small one compared to all the other horrible ones we thought up.

Somehow, because I'm talented that way, I turned into an s/m story about Winky needing to feel punished.

Hm.

Obviously I can't in good conscience continue this.


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